


Arts and Crafts

by sororexitium



Series: Peter's Special Power Is Wrapping Tony Around His Tiny Finger [4]
Category: Amazing Spider-Man (2012), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Clint should not be allowed near phones, M/M, Peter has a crush on Aunt Nat, Superfamily, Superhusbands, Tony is an awesome dad, but so is Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-22
Updated: 2012-09-22
Packaged: 2017-11-14 19:56:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sororexitium/pseuds/sororexitium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s another picture. This one of Steve, Peter, and Clint all on the floor with large sheets of paper and paint everywhere, clothes, floor, a purple handprint on the wall that looks to be Clint’s. Peter has his hands out, in Steve’s face who leans back with a wide grin, trying to keep white paint off of his face, though Tony doesn’t understand why. There’s orange paint on his nose, and green paint in his hair. The words underneath the picture say, It’s a good thing this is all washable.</p>
<p>He’s writing her a response telling her to tell Clint to wash it all up, because Clint is evil. He thinks about telling her what her name is in his phone when he gets two text messages in rapid succession. He opens Steve’s first, finding another picture, this one of Peter’s artwork. There are three stick figures holding ‘hands’. Two are in red and have black hair, the other blue with yellow hair. Above them, in Peter’s writing, are the words, ‘DaDDY,’ ‘ME’, and ‘CaP’. Underneath, Steve says, I intrtoduced him to the powwers ov arta and crafts</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arts and Crafts

Tony is at a business function slowly counting the minutes until Pepper’s predetermined time of bailing. He’s already been at this horrible mesh of people he really doesn’t care enough to talk to for about half an hour now and he’s not allowed to leave for another sixty-seven more, because Pepper is into torture, psychological being her favorite form. Her exact words had been, “If you don’t go, I will bury you in so much paperwork you won’t see your lab for a month.” And she had said them with that beatific smile that sometimes reminded Tony of a lioness getting ready for the kill.

So, here he is, his own smile forced so hard on his face it hurts and his face is cramping. He’s entertaining a group of high end, sophisticated men and women and a few younger ladies who keep smiling at him flirtatiously. It’s his element, but right now he would much rather be home, where Steve and Peter are likely destroying the tower with paint. Tony had seen the finger paint Steve returned to the apartment with. He though he was being sly but Tony knows, he _knows_ Steve is planning an attack of arts and crafts with Pete.

His only consolation in this entire event is that Pepper looks just as ready to go as he does; her smile just as forced, not that anybody can tell. She’s been at this almost as long as he has. She has a few older gentlemen that look to be flirting with her and she looks two seconds away from needing a stiff drink. He thinks he might use that as an excuse to grab a few martinis and head over to her. Maybe they can find a secluded table and hide from these people for a few minutes before jumping back into the fray.

He says…something, the witty repartee rolling out of his mouth with ease that doesn’t need his mental permission, and everyone laughs, loud and jarring Tony back to the room around him. One of the women, Ellovy’s young fiancée reaches out and touches his arm.

“You’re such a charmer, Mr. Stark,” Celeste says, a flush of alcohol high on her cheeks. She probably means her words although her touch is just friendly. From the few other galas and functions they’ve met at Tony has come to understand that the more Celeste drinks the more she will touch people and then she will go find her fiancé and hang on his arm tiredly. It’s kind of cute if Tony is honest. 

He pats her hand and leaves his covering hers as he leans toward her with a sultry grin. “Wait for the encore. I can show you charm.” He winks and she giggles, a piece of her dark hair falling out of her perfectly done hair. Some of the other young women look a little put out by Celeste getting  the attention, and a few of the older couples sneer at their ‘loose’ ways or whatever it is they’ll gossip about to each other later.

Tony doesn’t care. Celeste takes the opportunity to tuck her hand in his elbow and lean against him, “Oh, Mr. Stark! You know I’m an almost-married woman and my fiancé has charm of his own.” She smiles. “Charm much greater than yours.”

“No such thing, Ms. Simmons. I simply haven’t broken his hold over you. Give me time.”

“I’ll give you time if you get me a drink,” she negotiates, and who is Tony to look a gift horse in the mouth? He leads her away from the gaggle that had flocked around him toward the bar where they take a seat and Celeste gives a subtle shiver to shake off the persona. She gives Tony a real, if still tipsy smile and says, “I love that Will wants me to come with him to these events, but next time remind me to steer clear of Jet Hawthorn. That man is handsy when he thinks no one is looking.”

Tony glances over at the older man she refers to, who had been really close to Celeste. When he returns his eyes to his own scapegoat he replies, “Sure, no problem. I can do that if you promise to keep the other young and hopeful girls away from me.”

“Tony Stark,” she grins shrewdly. “I never would have expected such words from your lips. What could possibly bring on such a drastic change?” She takes a sip of her brandy as her eyes appraise him. “I would say it’s your son…but my womanly intuition tells me it’s something else…”

He thinks of his son Peter and who he’s at home with, probably painting himself more than the paper, and he gives her a secret smile. “My lips are sealed.”

With a raised brow, she tilts her head. “Oh? A challenge, I see. Come now. I’m curious. Who is it that has you, a proclaimed playboy, turning his nose up at young, willing girls? Certainly not the wonderful Ms. Potts, and likely not your P.A.” She hums, tapping the side of her glass. Her grey eyes are alight with interest.

Tony leans against the counter and meets her gaze evenly. She knows about the Avengers; who doesn’t? And she knows that they share his tower with him. Natasha has come to a few galas with him when Fury thought he needed a babysitter, and Steve has come to a few when he felt like it. But he doubts anyone really could guess about any relationship that the members have with each other or outside their team.

“Trust me. You’ll never guess,” he tells her, partially because it’s the truth, and partially because he likes seeing her eyes spark at the challenge.

She crosses her legs, the slit running up the side of her dress opening elegantly to expose her knee down to her delicate high heels. She leans forward like she’s going to pluck the answer right out of his eyes. Again, she hums, this time tapping her finger against her red stained lips. For a moment, she reminds him of a detective, trained to read him and others who keep secrets, and it’s not far from the truth. High society women are ingrained with the ability to pilfer out gossip.

Her scrutiny doesn’t come into fruition. Inside his jacket pocket his phone begins playing Don’t Wait by Dashboard Confessionals, which is Steve’s favorite song at the moment and one of the only bands from the 21st century that he really enjoys. He breaks eye contact to dig out his phone and sees the display name, ‘Captain Heartthrob’ because Clint is a sneaky little bastard who enjoys breaking into people’s phones and messing with them.

Tony will get him back later.

“Speak of the devil and a text message appears,” Celeste says smugly, trying to get a glance at the screen.

He opens the text and sees his son, covered in blue and red paint with a smudge of black over his right eyebrow. He’s grinning largely, brown eyes shining with glee. Tony can’t help the smile, even as he sends a reply, _What did you do to my poor child?_

Once it’s sent and he’s saved the picture to his personal files, he turns the phone so Celeste can see the picture. She laughs delightedly; taking the phone for herself as her other hand covers her heart. “Oh, what a sweetheart!” she coos. Ellovy will definitely be having a child in his future, if that look is anything to go by. “He’s adorable. Really nothing like you at all,” she teases as she passes the phone back just in time for him to receive another text, this one from ‘Redheaded Demon’. He can only assume that is Clint’s loving term for Natasha.

It’s another picture. This one of Steve, Peter, and Clint all on the floor with large sheets of paper and paint _everywhere_ , clothes, floor, a purple handprint on the wall that looks to be Clint’s. Peter has his hands out, in Steve’s face who leans back with a wide grin, trying to keep white paint off of his face, though Tony doesn’t understand why. There’s orange paint on his nose, and green paint in his hair. The words underneath the picture say, _It’s a good thing this is all washable._

He’s writing her a response telling her to tell Clint to wash it all up, because Clint is evil. He thinks about telling her what her name is in his phone when he gets two text messages in rapid succession. He opens Steve’s first, finding another picture, this one of Peter’s artwork. There are three stick figures holding ‘hands’. Two are in red and have black hair, the other blue with yellow hair. Above them, in Peter’s writing, are the words, ‘DaDDY,’ ‘ME’, and ‘CaP’. Underneath, Steve says, _I intrtoduced him to the powwers ov arta and crafts_

Tony grins at the terrible texting ability, and tells himself to see if he can get Steve’s QWERTY enlarged so his thumbs don’t hit quite as many keys. He replies, _Hang that one up somewhere. I’ll get a frame for it._

He reads the other next from ‘Bromantic Partner’… It’s Clint. And his just says, _I felt left out. Love me, Sugartits!!!!_ To which Tony sends back, _You are not only dead to me, but toast when I get home!_

When he puts his phone away, Celeste is watching him with an amused smile, her brandy refilled and another martini in front of him. “Come on, Mr. Stark. You’re boring me with all of your domesticity.” She slips her hand into the crook of his elbow again and says, “Take me to my fiancé. I want to see if I can entice him into displays of public affection.”

“I don’t think you’ll have to work that hard, Ms. Simmons.”

She smiles smugly as they make their way toward William Ellovy.

*

He has sixteen minutes to go when Pepper comes up to him with polite smiles and apologetic words to the third crowd that’s gathered around him. “Sorry, but we’ve got work to do back at Stark Towers. A few plans just came in that we need to look at.”

Everyone nods robotically and wave blandly as they go.

Tony only pauses to say good night to Mr. Ellovy and Ms. Simmons, saying he will be attending their wedding, he will steal Celeste away, and that he promises to bring Peter. Pepper kisses Celeste’s cheeks and shakes Will’s hand and then they’re in the cool night air and Happy is pulling up for them.

Once the door is closed, Pepper takes a martini and downs it before eating olives directly from the jar. She has five before the car is on the highway, seven before she puts them down and takes off her heels. Tony watches it all with a fond smirk. When she sees his expression, she points her finger at him and demands, “Don’t say a word, Tony.”

“I wasn’t going to,” he says, pausing for a moment before admitting, “But if I were it would be to say that this was your idea.”

“Those are words, Tony. They count as words and I do not want to hear them.” She pours herself some ginger ale and takes a sip. “This entire thing was for one of our investors. Unlike you, I like making our investors feel like we have mutual interest in each other.”

“We do have mutual interest. I just show my appreciation differently,” he sniffs, taking a sip of his whiskey.

She gives him one of her patented unimpressed stares. “A gift basket of your new toys is not the same as making time to go to their parties. Besides,” she takes a deep breath and gives him a small smile. “I still enjoy attending these things with you. You make a good out when the night gets boring.”

He smiles back and takes her hand. And then because he can, he looks at Happy and says, “We’re running away together, Happy. I’m sorry to do this to you, but our platonic love cannot be stopped! It is written in the stars!”

Happy glances back at them through the rearview mirror, meets Pepper’s eyes and gives a small smile. “Sorry, Boss, but I’ll believe it when I see it.” He turns his gaze back to the road and says, “Aren’t you looking at running away with Mr. Rogers, anyway?”

Tony stifles the urge to kick the back of his seat. “That was supposed to stay between you and me, Happy! I’m hurt!”

Pepper is full on grinning now. “You’re terrible at keeping secrets, Tony. Especially when it comes to someone you love. I’m honestly surprised the tabloids haven’t blown up with pictures of you and Steve considering how often you’ve both been taking Peter on outings with you.”

“Not to mention their not-dates,” Happy throws in. “What was it? Just last week you two went to see a movie after the Avengers squared things away with Mole?”

Tony glares at him but before he can make some remark about Happy and Pepper’s lovey-doveyness all over his tower, Pepper asks, “How do you keep getting Darcy to baby-sit Peter for you when a threat appears, anyway? Doesn’t she technically still work for Dr. Foster?”

“I trust my child with no one who doesn’t know how to use a tazer or bitch-slap someone in three words or less,” Tony replies. “She agrees to it because that means she has access to JARVIS and all of my entertainment systems.”

If Pepper or Happy are about to say something, it’s interrupted by Wanted Dead or Alive playing from Tony’s phone. “Ah, Bromantic Partner strikes again.”

He pulls his phone out, and Pepper leans in close to look over his shoulder. When she sees the display name, she rolls her eyes. “Clint?”

“Yep.”

“What did he change my name to?”

“I don’t know. Send me a message and we’ll see,” he tells her as he opens the text from Clint. It’s another picture, and this one, unlike the others, is obviously a covertly taken picture. It’s of Steve and Peter in the bathroom. Peter is in the bathtub with a mountain of bubbles nearly toppling onto the tile flooring and Steve is styling Peter’s shampoo suds hair into a fauxhawk, both grinning like loons. He smiles and sends back, _Forgiven._

Pepper says quietly, “I want that one.” She sets her head down on his shoulder, only to jerk it back up when her message appears on his screen, her name boldly displayed, ‘The Punisher!’

Tony cannot stop laughing.

Pepper says, “I will show that man The Punisher.”

*

Tony steps out of the elevator and breathes a silent sigh of relief to be home. He loosens his bow tie, shrugs off his jacket and listens for the sounds of his friends or son. There’s no immediate noise, although he thinks he can hear something from the direction of the kitchen so he wanders off in that direction.

It’s Bruce, who seems to be putting leftovers away, and after a quick word consisting of, “So, you’re killing Clint?”

“No, but Pepper might.”

“Damn. I’ll miss him,” he continues on in search of Peter or Steve.

He finds them in Peter’s room. Peter is in bed, with his Batman comforter wrapped around him and his head propped up on his pillow. He stares up at Steve avidly while he’s read to.

“ _’What size do you want to be?’ it asked._

_‘Oh, I’m not particular as to size,’ Alice hastily replied; ‘only one doesn’t like changing so often, you know.’_ ” Steve read, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland having been the source of bedtime stories for the last few days.

Tony hunkers down against the jamb, folding his arms over his chest as Steve finishes up the last of the chapter, dreaming up voices and acting out reactions for Peter’s entertainment. Steve knows he’s there, glanced up when Tony first came in, but Peter is still unaware as the pigeon shrieks about serpents, and Alice finally returns to her normal height only to shrink down to nine inches tall.

When Steve closes the book, Peter pleads with him, “Can you read more? I wanna know who lives in th’ house, Cap.”

Steve shakes his head, and leans over the bed to kiss Peter’s forehead. “Not tonight, buddy. You’ll find out tomorrow.” He pushes the little boy’s bangs out of his face and smiles, before looking up at Tony. “Hey, look. Daddy’s here to tuck you in.”

Peter whips his head around to look at Tony standing in the door, his face lighting up. “Daddy!”

Tony pushes himself off the door and comes further into the room. Peter makes room for him on his bed and Tony doesn’t hesitate, folding himself in next to his son and wrapping his arm around his chest. “Hey, baby boy,” he says, running his hand through his child’s soft hair. “Cap sent me some pictures of your artwork. They’re very good.”

Peter grins happily. “Cap says you’re gonna put ‘em on th’ wall?”

“Yep! We’re gonna go get frames for them tomorrow and then hang them up for all the world to see.”

“As it should be with all good artists,” Steve says from his stool next to the bed.

“Absolutely,” Tony agrees. “But you’ve gotta get some rest for that. We can’t take a grumpy spider-thing into public. He might try biting at people and then I’ll have to squish him.” He demonstrates squishing the spider by pulling Peter to his chest and tickling at his tummy. “Tickles shouldn’t be warranted unless squishing doesn’t work, but for the sake of warning…”

Peter shrieks, trying to curl into a ball to save himself from Tony’s dancing fingers as he giggles out, “Daddy! Stop it! Stop! I don’ like tickles!” He kicks his little feet under the covers. “Cap! Help!”

Steve shrugs. “If you insist…” He then flips the comforter over and exposes Pete’s feet, grabbing one and tickling it, making Peter scream even more.

“I’ll be good spider-thing! Promise!” Peter gasps, a huge smile splitting his face. “No more tickles! I’m a good spider-thing.”

Tony and Steve both relent and the little boy gasps out a few more giggles before relaxing against Tony. His eyes are bright with merriment, and his cheeks are flushed from laughing and struggling. Tony can’t resist kissing his forehead, before he hauls himself off of his son’s bed to tuck him in, making sure his arms are free but his legs are tightly wrapped. “Night, baby boy,” he says when his paternal duties are finished and his son is super comfortable.

Peter smiles. “Night, Daddy. Night, Cap.”

“Good night, buddy.”

Steve turns off the light and they leave the door open until Peter’s nightlight comes to life, throwing stars around the room. When Peter looks like he’s relaxed into his mattress Steve shuts the door.

“So…let’s see his artwork,” Tony demands quietly, making Steve smile and take his hand so they can go to the living room, cleaner but with rows of paper lining the floor. He can tell the difference between a few of the artists. Clint’s are distinguishable only if for the way that the red-haired figure has sharp teeth. The ones from Natasha are mostly scenery, trees, buildings, and still life type things. Steve’s are a bit more detailed; the sweep of Peter’s cheek is close to the actual thing, the spec of light in his eye carefully placed.

Pete’s are mostly stick figure diagrams of his family, complete with labels, and Tony sadly notes that there is no Mommy and Papa, or Aunt May and Uncle Ben. There are pictures of Daddy and Cap, and Uncle Bruce and Uncle Clint. Aunt Nat and ME. Aunt Pepper and Uncle Happy. Thor, Jane and Darcy. All the stick figures in different colors and Natasha’s, amusingly enough, in hot pink. But still…nothing of his mother’s side of the family.

Steve takes his hand and squeezes. “What’s wrong?”

Tony looks up and gives him a small smile. “Nothing. It’s just…” He looks back at the pictures. His son’s brilliant artwork. “Mary and Rick aren’t painted.”

Steve nods. “I read that can sometimes happen. It’s not a bad sign, but…” He gives a helpless shrug. “He’s young and he’s lived with us for almost eight months. Some memories are just…sometimes easier to block out, especially ones that are so traumatizing.”

Tony snorts. “He certainly gets that from me.”

Steve jerks his hand gently. “He gets it from all of us…even Mary and Rick.” He says the last two names tentatively, as if he’s unsure he’s allowed to assume that much. Tony makes a mental note to share that history with him before they jump into any sort of relationship. Or…well, he thinks as he squeezes Steve’s hand appreciatively, any more of a relationship.

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing. No characters, save for Celeste and Mr. Ellovy who may make another appearance or two later in the series. I own no music, or books...well I own a copy of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, but that is really neither here nor there. I did not have this beta'd and therefore all mistakes belong to me! Go typing failure me!


End file.
